


masters of the fucking universe

by Camellia Cook (thekurosakiconundrum)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (on a dick), (repeatedly), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boss/Employee Relationship, CEO Kylo Ren, Choking, Dom/sub, Dominant Kylo Ren, Engineer Armitage Hux, Just-An-Asshole/sub, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, M/M, Manipulative Kylo Ren, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Submissive Armitage Hux, Under-negotiated Kink, or maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekurosakiconundrum/pseuds/Camellia%20Cook
Summary: Kylo Ren, CEO of First Order Peacekeeping Solutions, plucks his top engineer, Armitage Hux, out of his lab and brings him along to a high-class fundraiser to help sell their newest innovation. Hux is just trying to keep up, and not give away the enormous crush he has on his boss--which is made much more difficult when Kylo decides he wants some company after the event.





	masters of the fucking universe

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this maybe needs more tags? But I'm not sure what. I'm hoping the Dom/sub tag will cover it. Basically, Kylo's a real dick, and Hux goes on a Journey(TM) about it.
> 
> Everything is explicitly consensual, but I can't say that Kylo's not taking advantage, as he is Hux's employer. If you're sensitive to any topics that commonly come up in D/s fics and want more info, feel free to drop me a comment and i'll answer, or DM me on twitter, @cmdr-camellia. 
> 
> (Also, come follow me!)

Hux stood on the sidewalk, straightening his cuffs and tie for what felt like the hundredth time time as he waited for Kylo to arrive. He felt tremendously out of place in the tux his boss had bought him, the first and only bespoke item of clothing he had ever owned.

Kylo had plucked him from his lab and taken him to the the tailor shop personally, his very own Pygmalion in an Armani suit. Hux had stood there with the well-dressed stranger's hands on him, skilled and impersonal, while Kylo looked on, leaning against a mirror, carrying on a conversation about him—about his long legs and narrow shoulders—with the tailor like Hux wasn't even there.

It had made him feel like a dress-up doll, something for Kylo to pretty up as until it pleased him. He… didn’t hate it as much as he should have.

Hux scowled at the fanciful notion even as he thought it wasn’t entirely wrong—after all, the whole reason he needed to look his best for tonight's charity gala was that Kylo wouldn't be seen with him otherwise. He had to attend, strange as it was. Kylo usually took his flavor of the week to these things, some model or socialite, but tonight there was business happening, and apparently their contact had requested Hux’s presence.

That had never happened before, but Kylo seemed to think that this was only the beginning for him. A debut, of sorts. He’d told Hux that the Starkiller was a triumph, something no other engineer had dared, and if he could deliver more successes like that, everyone would want to meet him. Excepting pacifists, who would want to kill him. Or something. Hux didn’t know what pacifists did when they got mad at you.

Anyway, for all Hux was apparently an up-and-coming engineer, it didn't mean he was allowed to look like a man who spent most of his time in a lab, or so Kylo had said.

Appearances, he’d told Hux, were everything. He’d get some slack on account of being a boffin, but in their line of work, everything, including the people, had to look slick and sleek and dangerous. Kylo himself certainly did, moving through life with leonine grace and an aura of utter certainty that the world would bend to his will.

 _Speak of the devil,_ Hux thought, watching the flashiest fucking limo he’d ever seen roll down his entirely average street. It was a massive thing, black on black, intimidating and expensive. It looked just as out of place as Hux himself did, standing outside the same brownstone he’d lived in since childhood in a tux he didn’t even dare guess the price of.

The car rolled to a stop in front of him, engine purring in a way that struck Hux as mildly obscene. The door popped open, and Hux looked in, his eyes catching for a moment on Kylo’s hand where it rested on the door, massive and well-manicured, sleeve pulled back just-so to show off his ten-thousand dollar watch.

Jesus fucking _Christ_ , he looked good. Hux’s traitorous heart sped up as he took him the sight of him, his usual ponytail nowhere in sight, his hair freshly cut and shining, swept back from his face to show off those distinctive features that somehow seemed to get more handsome every time Hux saw them. He wore a simple, classic tux, but he made it look like an innovation as he sat there, looking up at Hux expectantly.

"You gonna get in?" Kylo asked after a moment, smirking at him as Hux realized he was simply standing outside the door, staring.

Hux stepped forward and Kylo slid back to sprawl in the corner opposite him as he got in the car. Part of him—a really stupid part he always spent a lot of time trying to suppress—hated how much space this put between them.

"You look good in that," Kylo told him, giving him a casual once-over that somehow still sent heat scorching through Hux's bones. Kylo’s appraisal, and better than that, his _approval,_ made that dress-up doll feeling rush back with a vengeance. He felt as though Kylo had looked him over as he rolled off the assembly line and declared him a satisfactory product.

"Thanks," Hux croaked. “You—you too.”

"Nervous?" Kylo asked. "You've never met the Secretary of Defense before."

Hux shook his head. He wasn't nervous, not really—he had nothing to be nervous about. The Starkiller was the best in its class, if it could even be said to have a class. Still, he wasn’t really looking forward to all this. He’d had to watch YouTube videos about what fork to use. “No, I’m just a bit... out of my element.”

Kylo slid across the leather seat and clapped him on the back, one blunt-fingered hand curling around his shoulder and giving him a little squeeze. "You'll do fine. You're one of mine, I know you can handle yourself anywhere."

Hux couldn't help leaning into the touch just slightly, the vote of confidence and the possessive ‘mine’ making him practically vibrate with pleasure. He was one of _Kylo's._

The rest of the ride passed in idle conversation, which Hux kept up admirably (in his opinion) given that Kylo never moved back to the corner, choosing instead to sit next to him, his arm over that back of Hux's seat. Hux could smell his cologne, leather and spice, and it was an effort not to bury his face in the crook of Kylo’s neck and breathe him in.

This wasn’t new behavior, Kylo regularly disregarded other people’s personal space like he disregarded anything else he deemed irrelevant. This close, the physicality of him was overwhelming as always, his sheer size and the way he took up the space around him, as if he commanded it utterly.

Hux wanted to suck his dick. Really, really, really wanted to. It was always a problem, his infatuation with his boss, the way he succumbed to Kylo's magnetism like anybody else when he was clever enough—and knew him well enough—that he ought to be immune.

But tonight, dressed in clothes Kylo had bought him, in Kylo's car, with Kylo’s arm damn near around him… It felt almost like he was one of Kylo’s models, like he was arm candy and maybe someone to warm his bed later. He was a fucking rocket scientist for God’s sake, but the thought of it, of being Kylo’s plaything, wanted for his body and little else, had him shifting uncomfortably, hoping Kylo didn’t pick up on what felt like it must be obvious arousal.

The ride felt like it took forever, but eventually they arrived, their ridiculous car pulling up outside the museum that was hosting the event. There was an actual fucking red carpet, and photographers snapped their picture as they walked in. Kylo paid them no mind, so Hux followed suit, feeling strange and exposed nonetheless.

Would someone go digging to find out who had accompanied the hotshot weapons executive that everyone loved to hate? Would they find out that he was an engineer, or would they think him Kylo’s date, Kylo’s lover? ‘Ginger Catamite to the Merchant of Death’the headlines might label him. Probably not. He didn’t think even the National Enquirer used words like “catamite” anymore.

It wouldn’t be unprecedented for Kylo to bring a man as his date, as he’d been seen in the company of men before—very much in the company, on one notable occasion. Never, though, at an event like this, where he was expected to rub elbows with government officials who disapproved of that sort of thing.

After all, they were always the ones who wanted to buy the big guns, and Kylo had yet to challenge them by shoving his bisexuality directly in their faces. It did seem like something he might do, though, to assert his dominance or some such nonsense.

Hux decided he’d try not to think about it, a skill he had perfected during his tenure at First Order Peacekeeping Systems. Anyway, what did he care what people thought? It wasn’t like he was some straight guy, afraid to be accused of taking it up the ass in exchange for a few baubles and maybe a trip to Ibiza or something.

He swallowed, carefully setting that thought aside as they made it inside the gallery-turned-ballroom.

The scene was somehow both more dazzling and more pedestrian than he’d expected. Men in dress uniforms and tuxes mingled with women in ballgowns and diamonds, eating little elegant snacks. Kylo took a drink from the tray of a passing waiter and Hux followed suit, taking a sip and finding the cocktail sweet, fruity, and surprisingly boring.

He trailed along in Kylo's wake as they mingled with the masters of the fucking universe, senators and billionaires and men with stars on their shoulders. Hux admired and despised them in equal measure. These were the beings that decided the fates of nations? The red-faced man picking a piece of pepper off a slice of cheese? The woman with hair that looked like it belonged in 1985?

It was all very disorienting. He wasn’t really sure what he was meant to be doing, so he reverted to his tried-and-true party persona, which meant he pretty much spoke only when spoken to. (He’d never been much for parties.)

Fortunately, this seemed to be all that was expected of him, and it had the side-effect of letting him watch as Kylo worked the crowd. In Hux’s observation, his boss tended towards brooding intensity interspersed with bursts of inexplicable and slightly frightening good cheer, but here, like this, it was like he’d flipped some switch and turned himself _affable_ , disarming, the kind of guy everyone liked.

The good-old-boy act was a little unnerving, Hux thought. Then again, Kylo was nearly always a little unnerving: too intense, too big, too in-your-face. He was just too much, like an image with the contrast set too high, like he was more real and alive than everyone around him. It fascinated Hux, and here, it was obvious he wasn’t alone.

Kylo shook hands and kissed cheeks, making small talk with ease, where the art had always eluded Hux. He’d never seen the point of talking if you didn’t have anything to talk about. But Kylo clapped men on the arms and complimented their golf games—he loathed golf, Hux knew, having heard him complain about it many times.

He charmed women in jewelry more expensive than his house, making them laugh and lean closer. Their husbands didn’t even seem to mind, as blinded by Kylo’s charm as their wives.

For all this, they made it through cocktail hour unscathed, and after the bout of existential dread the experience had engendered wore off, Hux actually began to enjoy himself. Whenever they left one conversation group for another, Kylo would lean down to whisper the most salacious gossip in his ear, the peccadillos and private humiliations of all generals and foreign ambassadors he'd just been flattering. It thrilled him to be Kylo’s partner-in-crime, laughing softly and adding his own judgements of the assembled movers-and-shakers in an undertone. He even made Kylo laugh once or twice.

These paunchy middle-aged men and their smizing trophy wives were the sheep to Kylo’s alpha wolf, Hux thought, and it made him proud to be treated like one of the pack, like he made from different stuff than these people. Just like Kylo.

At dinner, they were seated next to the man they'd come to speak to—Hux wasn’t sure how Kylo had made this happen, but he was certain that he had—and Hux played his part, reciting technical specifications when asked, speed and distance and explosive power, the results of simulations and live-fire tests, how the Starkiller ranked next to similar equipment on the market, not that there really was anything similar. The Secretary told them over dessert that his people would be in contact tomorrow, and shook Kylo’s hand. Afterward, he shook Hux’s, too.

"Good work," Kylo murmured, squeezing Hux's knee under the table. He swallowed hard, looking away, taking a long sip of his dessert wine. It was too sweet for his taste but good enough to combat the sudden dryness in his mouth.

Dinner ended, and dancing began--thankfully, Kylo didn't expect him to dance, nor did he dance himself. They only lingered on the edges, allowing anyone who wanted to talk to them to do so, including the king of a small nation, someone with a barely detectable Russian accent, and the president of another small nation that was currently at war with the first.

When it seemed no one else had an obliquely-worded proposal for them, Kylo told him it was time to go, and ushered Hux out with a warm hand at the small of his back. They didn’t stop to say goodbye to anyone, but then again, maybe one wasn’t supposed to at these sorts of things. Hux didn’t know.

They made it back to the limo, which rolled away from the museum, presumably off towards Hux’s place. He was still nearly vibrating with excitement, thrilled by their success, high from the mere proximity of power. Kylo, seemingly unaffected, pulled out his phone and started scrolling.

"Sorry to be that asshole on his phone," he said absently, eyes on his screen, "But I gotta find some company for tonight. Winning always makes me horny."

Hux choked on nothing, and wracked his brains for some sort of response. His face, he thought, must be bright red. People didn’t just come out and say these things! Then again, people didn’t also have multiple contacts in their phones ready to go at any time. Or at least, Hux certainly didn’t. That was what interacting with Kylo was like, you could never be sure what rules applied to him.

The urge to say “No, don’t, pick me,” was so hard to resist, for all he knew he should. It wasn’t ever a good idea to sleep with your boss, and sleeping with Kylo in particular didn’t seem especially wise, for all its appeal. Besides, he didn’t even know if Kylo would be interested. He might just humiliate himself for nothing.

When he was silent too long, Kylo turned to him, smirking, eyebrows raised. "You want me to find you someone? My treat."

Hux gaped at him, then remembered to close his mouth, opened it again to speak, then closed it without saying a thing.

Kylo looked at him, head tilted to one side. "If the problem is that you prefer guys, don't worry, I've got at least a couple whose skills I can personally attest to on here."

This was intolerable. "No," Hux said tartly, "The problem is that you're looking through your contacts when I'm sitting right here.”

Kylo just looked at him skeptically, so Hux continued, his stomach feeling like he was in free-fall. "I assure you, I may not be a professional, but I'd be a perfectly adequate companion for this evening."

"Oh," Kylo said, then, a grin breaking out across his face, “Oh, Hux. I had no idea."

"That was my general intent," Hux admitted, looking away. "In not mentioning it before now.”

"Alright," Kylo said thoughtfully. "Alright, I'll consider it."

"Consider—?" Hux snapped, going from attracted to Kylo to pissed at him in 0.5 seconds. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"It's a big decision, the celebration of a night like tonight," Kylo told him, voice deadpan, and Hux honestly couldn't tell if he was joking. He couldn't believe how bad he wanted this asshole.

As Hux glared at him, unsure what to even say, Kylo reached down and opened the small refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of champagne, unwrapping it, and popping the cork. He poured himself a glass (also taken from the refrigerator, because apparently one couldn’t have unchilled glasses) and leaned back in his seat. "Okay. Convince me."

 _"Convince you?"_ Hux sputtered, "How? You want me to construct a fucking argument?"

"That would be one strategy," Kylo replied, shrugging, a shit-eating grin on his face as he shifted his hips forward, spread his legs in unsubtle suggestion. "Use your initiative.”

The simultaneous surges of pique and arousal made Hux's head go fuzzy and hot in a sweet, glorious rush that only Kylo ever made him feel. How dare he. Hux should refuse. He should give Kylo the finger and have the driver stop the car, get out and catch a cab home.

Instead, he stared back, gaze as challenging as he could make it when every fiber of his being screamed to look away, to cede dominance. He stood, bent awkwardly in the car, and knelt at Kylo’s feet, holding his gaze the whole time. Kylo watched him impassively, a little half-smile on his face like he found the whole display mildly amusing.

It was infuriating, but it made something in his belly go tight, made his cock twitch inside his very best underwear. He slid his hands up the inside of Kylo's thighs, barely daring to believe that this was happening, that he was touching his boss like this at last, hands separated from his skin and muscle-- _so much_ muscle--by only a layer of smooth, fine fabric.

He looked away from Kylo’s face to undo his fly, hoping he couldn't feel the tremor in his hand; he'd wanted this so badly for so long. Kylo's boxers were silk because of course they were, and Hux exhaled shakily as he cupped him through them, kneading gently, feeling how warm Kylo was here, how soft. Of all the times he’d dreamed of Kylo’s cock, he’d never imagined it soft.

He bent, suddenly helpless in the face of his urge to rub his face on it, nuzzling at the base through the thin fabric, mouthing at his balls, breathing in the soap-and-musk smell of him. He knew how this must look, too submissive, too desperate, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. His whole lower body burned with arousal—he hadn’t known it was possible to want so much.

He felt Kylo's cock twitch against his cheek, fatter than it had been when he'd started, and okay, okay he'd had enough of this, he had to taste him right now. He tugged his underwear down out of the way, tucking it under his balls, and finally risked a glance up at Kylo. He needed to see his expression, needed to know if he was aroused by Hux’s obvious need or repulsed by it. Neither, it turned out. He wasn't even _looking,_ head tipped back as he stared idly out the out the window, sipping his champagne.

The car took a sharp turn, tipping Hux off-balance, leaving him unsteady, grasping Kylo’s thigh for support.

Kylo looked down, taking in the sight of Hux clinging to him, staring up at him desperately, and raised an eyebrow as if to say _‘well?'_

Hux lowered his eyes and swallowed the sound that wanted to crawl out of his throat, propelled upward by something he couldn’t name. He’d show Kylo; he’d make him look. He’d fucking _captivate_ him. Determined, he bent to his task again, sucking Kylo's entire half-hard cock in his mouth.

That, at least, got him a reaction, a quick, harsh breath sucked in through Kylo's teeth. It was a small thing, but it loomed impossibly large in his mind, like a triumph, like praise.

He was big, even like this, filling Hux's mouth, almost too much already. He looked up, found him watching this time, still half-smiling as he watched Hux pull back, sucking, stretching him out. Now, though, it was more an expression of self-satisfied approval than amusement. He looked at Hux as though he was congratulating himself for his good taste in employees, or his good taste in toys.

Hux whined around his cock, looking away, closing his eyes. He couldn’t stand Kylo’s smug, appraising gaze on him, had to shut it out as best he could—it was too much, too raw, like a tongue on an open wound.

Instead, he focused only on his task, working Kylo to full hardness with his lips and tongue, all his senses turned towards Kylo's body, the taste of him, the scent, the feel of him sliding over his tongue, the slip of soft, delicate skin over hard flesh. It was so fucking good, everything that he’d ever imagined, and it wasn’t hard to give himself over to it, to devote his entire being to sucking Kylo’s cock.

“Doin’ so good,” Kylo murmured, one big hand coming to rest on Hux's face, tipping it up to look at him, thumbing at the wet corner of Hux's stretched-open mouth. "You’re just made for this, aren’t you?"

The words cracked through Hux like a blow, punching the air out of him, the sound of it echoing emptily in his ears. _Made for this._ He was _for this._ Hux’s eyes fluttered shut with a long moan that would have been _yes, yes,_ if he’d been able to shape the words.

"Show me how good you can be," Kylo murmured, fingers slipping into Hux's hair, petting him gently. "You can take it all, can't you, baby?"

The endearment sounded like something filthy on Kylo's lips, like something he'd said to a hundred others in exactly this position before. Still, though, Hux wanted so badly to be good for him, to please him, to convince him that he was worth spending the night with. The fact that Kylo was almost certainly just using him like he’d used any number of people only made him more determined to stand out from the crowd, only made him hotter.

And so he tried, feeling the fat head of Kylo’s cock pressing against the back of his throat, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to force it deeper, breathing through his nose to suppress his gag reflex. He couldn’t, though, not for long--Kylo was too big, too thick, and Hux’s eyes watered as he gagged, stomach flopping in some unholy combination of nausea and arousal.

"Such a hard worker," Kylo crooned, and it warmed something in Hux’s chest that he wasn’t disappointed in Hux’s failure, that he appreciated Hux’s effort. "Keep trying, baby, I know you can do it.”

Hux tried again and gagged again, whining around Kylo's dick as he gave it one more try, the sound cutting off abruptly as the head popped into his throat. Kylo groaned extravagantly as Hux worked his mouth down further, lips stretched wide around the thick root of Kylo’s cock. There was a delicious panicky feeling rising in his chest at the lack of air, alloying itself strangely with the buoyant, overwhelming satisfaction at his success.

Kylo’s hips twitched up and that was enough to break Hux’s tentative hold on his autonomic nervous system, sending him jerking back, coughing and sputtering, stomach roiling, eyes watering.

Hux drew in on himself as he got his breathing under control, shoulders curling up in shame at his failure. He couldn’t even do this right, and he was sure that when he looked up, he’d see Kylo staring down at him in cold disappointment. But when Hux dared to look up, all he saw was the way Kylo’s eyes had gone hazy and half-lidded as they roved over Hux’s tear-stained cheeks and spit-wet chin. There was nothing but lust on his face, from his flushed cheeks to his shiny, parted lips.

The relief of it was overwhelming--Kylo still wanted him. He didn’t mind Hux’s failure, it had been enough for him to see that Hux had tried. It made him feel warm inside, warm and grateful, and he let it suffuse him as he bent to his task again.

He didn’t feel ready to take him in just yet, thought he’d gag immediately if he even tried, so he stuck to licking and nuzzling for now, kissing down the length of Kylo’s cock, enjoying the sensation of it sliding blood-warm and iron-hard along his cheek. Kylo groaned aloud as Hux mouthed at his balls, sucking one then the other into his mouth, rasping his tongue over the coarse hair there. They were heavy and full, ready, and Hux felt his whole body clench up with with wanting at the thought of Kylo coming in his mouth.

The empty champagne glass rolled on the seat beside him, tossed away so Kylo could wrap his hand around his cock, giving it one long stroke then slapping it against Hux's cheek hard enough to startle a small noise out of him, sending his eyes fluttering shut.

"Look at me," Kylo ordered, his voice husky, and Hux did, moaning aloud at the look on his face, the desire he saw there, the heat, the hunger. Kylo wanted him. Kylo wanted _him._

He squirmed, the ache between his legs bordering on truly painful as Kylo struck his cheek again, again, again. He felt pre-come smearing hotly against his skin, the dull, wet sound of Kylo’s cock smacking against his his face turning into something sticky, something filthy.

"Open up, baby," Kylo breathed, and fed his cock into Hux's waiting mouth. He tasted so fucking good, salty-slick on Hux’s tongue now, so hot, so hard, big enough to make his jaw ache. He held himself around the base while he cupped Hux’s skull with his other hand, fingers digging into his scalp as he worked him up and down, using his mouth like a toy. "There's my good boy.”

Hux shut his eyes, whimpering, a jolt of arousal so strong he thought he might come untouched rocketing through him. He didn't, but fuck he wanted to. He spared a thought to touching himself, but what if Kylo didn’t want him to? He wanted to be good. He wanted it even more than he wanted to come.

Kylo’s hand on his head stilled, holding him still as he lifted his hips, fucking up into Hux’s mouth, carefully at first, then faster. He took it as best he could, only gagging a little, and he was proud of himself for how well he did.

“Fuck yeah,” Kylo groaned, head lolling back against the headrest for a moment before he looked down at Hux again. “That’s it, just hold still for me. Stay right there, baby, and let me fuck this pretty mouth.”.

Not that Hux had much choice--Kylo’s hand in his hair held him fast, kept him from pulling away. He couldn't get enough air, couldn't think--Kylo was too much, too big, too hot, too rough.

"Gonna come down your throat, Hux," Kylo promised, snarling the words out between great panting breaths.

The words took a moment to penetrate Hux’s hazy consciousness, but when they did, he shuddered and moaned, whining around Kylo’s cock. That was his name on Kylo's lips, not just ‘baby,’ not generic, he wanted to come down _Hux's_ throat, his in particular. He wanted that, he wanted, please, _please,_ Kylo—

Kylo shoved him down, hard enough to choke him as he came with a long, loud groan. His cock spat its load over the back of Hux's tongue, filling his mouth, too much, dripping from the corners of his his lips to stain the fabric of Kylo's pants.

He held on as long as he could manage, unable to swallow around Kylo's cock, trying desperately to ride it out, waiting until Kylo's hips went still to pull off and swallow, gasping for air, his eyes streaming.

When he looked up, he saw Kylo laying sprawled against the seat, chest heaving, an arm thrown over his face.

"Fuck, Hux," he sighed. "I'm convinced. Back to my place?”

“I--” Hux began, then had to stop and clear his throat. “I, uh--”

He was so aroused he could barely think, barely speak. “Yeah,” he managed thickly. God, there was going to be more. Maybe Kylo was going to fuck him, going to spread him out and put his cock in his ass. Maybe he was going to use Hux’s hole like he’d used his mouth. Maybe Hux was made for that, too.

Kylo moved his arm away and looked down at Hux, his lip swollen and red where he’d bitten it, his eyes soft and satisfied. “Look at you, baby,” he crooned. “Look what a mess you are.”

Hux raised a hand to wipe at his face, but Kylo’s hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “I like you like this. Let me look at you a little more.”

He let Hux’s hand fall and reached for his face himself, lifting his chin, thumbing at the corners of his mouth, smearing spilled spit and come along his cheek, toying with his bruised, swollen lips. Hux was trembling with need as Kylo slid his thumb into Hux’s mouth, and he sucked at it eagerly, eyes fluttering shut again.

“Needy, Hux. You already want more, is that it?”

Hux nodded, Kylo’s thumb still caught between his lips. He did want more. He wanted everything Kylo felt like giving him.

“You’re so quiet,” Kylo said, tipping his head to the side like a curious bird. “Why?”

“I, um. I just.” Hux hesitated, wishing he had some eloquent response, some way to say it that wouldn’t sound pathetic. His head felt strange, he couldn’t fucking think, and he needed—

“You just what?” Kylo crooned, the toe of his shoe teasing up the inside of Hux’s thigh, like he knew exactly what was going on with Hux. He gasped and panted and fought to keep himself still as the square tip of it worked its way higher, but he couldn’t suppress a moan when Kylo prodded at his cock through his trousers, his hips jerking forward to press himself against the shiny leather of Kylo’s shoe.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Kylo said, tone soft and teasing. “Choking on my dick gets you hard, huh?”

Hux could only whimper, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. It did, it really did.

“You’re close, too, aren’t you, baby?”

Hux nodded, shaking all over at the prospect of release.

“Then go ahead, take what you need,” Kylo told him, pressing the sole of his shoe hard against Hux’s cock.

Hux didn’t think twice, thrusting his hips forward, rutting his cock against Kylo’s shoe, too far gone to care how this looked. Except he wasn’t, fuck, he knew _exactly_ how it must look, desperate, shameless. Except he wasn’t that, either—he felt like he was watching himself from a distance, and that observer was ashamed of his conduct even while the rest of him was so mindless with lust that all he could do was hump Kylo’s shoe and make little breathy noises.

Shame like hot lead mingled strangely in the pit of his stomach with the tension of his impending orgasm. The reality of it was unbelievable, that they’d ended up here, that he was going to come in his trousers, come from _Kylo fucking Ren_ stepping on his fucking cock. It was so good he could cry, he’d never been more aroused. It was so good, it was so fucking _good_ and he could feel it at the base of his spine, arrowing up and out and _oh, God—_

Hux came with a harsh cry, cock jerking and pulsing against the sole of Kylo’s shoe, soaking his underwear, messing himself as he shook with pleasure, as Kylo looked on and rumbled his approval. It was filthy, _he_ was filthy, debased, disgusting, and his come was soaking through now, ruining this beautiful suit Kylo had bought him.

It took him a long time to come down, kneeling there on the floor of the limo, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut.

He didn’t want to open them. He didn’t want to deal with the fact that that, apparently, had just happened.

But he had to, and he did, finally daring to raise his eyes and meet Kylo’s.

“That,” Kylo said seriously, “Was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.”

Hux breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been too much, he hadn’t been too abnormal after all—or perhaps Kylo approved of his abnormality.

Kylo leaned forward and stroked his face, the gesture almost affectionate, like the way one might stroke a pet.

Hux tried to shake the thought off—he didn’t have the excuse of overwhelming arousal now. Still, he couldn’t help but press his face into the caress.

“I knew you’d be hot, but I didn’t expect you to be like _this,_ ” Kylo told him, and it was clear from his tone that he found it a pleasant surprise.

“Well,” Hux admitted muzzily, “Me neither.”

Kylo laughed softly and reached out a hand to help Hux up. He took it, allowing Kylo to pull him up onto his lap. He tugged Hux against him and despite his better judgement, Hux went, feeling drained and shaky and amazing as he laid his head on Kylo’s shoulder. “Take a little rest, baby. You’re going to need all your energy for when we get back to my place. You have _no idea_ how good I’m going to fuck you when we get there.”

Hux’s spent cock twitched in his sodden underwear at the prospect, and he murmured tired agreement, taking the offered cuddle. He wouldn’t, ordinarily, but that had been… Hux wasn’t sure what it had been, but Kylo’s arms felt good around him, and he didn’t feel compelled to shake him off like he otherwise might. He spent the rest of the ride drifting in a pleasant, post-orgasmic haze, not asleep, but not entirely with it either. Kylo smelled good, and he was extremely warm.

It wasn’t until the limo stopped that he realized Kylo had never told the driver to change directions. He forced his brain into gear as he got out, running a few calculations--there was no way they could have gotten to Kylo’s place so quickly if they’d been headed towards Hux’s. He shook his head, smiling wryly—of course they’d been coming here all along. He should be pissed at Kylo playing him like that, and maybe he would be tomorrow. Right now, though, he had more important things to think about.

Kylo stepped out of the car to stand behind him, hands running down Hux’s sides as he nuzzled at the back of his neck. “Gonna make you mine now, Hux.”

Hux turned in his arms, bumping Kylo’s nose with his own, a hair’s breadth away from a kiss. “We’ll see about that.”

The challenge, of course, was as much a lie as Kylo’s “I had no idea you were into me.” He’d been his for a long time now.

Kylo smiled, and it was worlds away from the smile he’d given the generals and diplomats. It was sharp and hungry, and lit Hux up like a roman candle inside.

“Yeah,” Kylo said, “I guess we will.”


End file.
